A Slytherin's History
by PheFire
Summary: HIATUS. History has misled us often. History has lied to us often. If you could, would you learn the truth? The truth of Hogwarts, of Slytherin, of our very past? Would you let everything you believed in be rewritten?
1. History Lies, Often

**Chapter 1**

**History Lies, Often**

**Author Notes**: This story has been floating around my head since I read Crumbling Pedestals. Please don't ask how the two relate at all! The only link is that Salazar Slytherin had a brother, thats it. I'm even confused how this one evolved from that! So I've decided to try and write it. The first few chapters will most likely be in the past, and then we'll jump ahead to Harry pre-hogwarts.

**Summary:** Nope, none! Just know that it involves a really powerful Slytherin (trick here) and his brother plus immortality, throw in some prophecy's made centuries ago and a very confused Harry, and don't forget a dash of family issues. Sounds fun, right! (Hint: Is the POV of Salazar brother)

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History has lied to. History has often lied to us. For if History was to tell the truth, humans, as the frail beings we are, would not know how to deal with it. Perhaps if History would tell the truth, I would not be needed to tell this story, for it would already be recorded. It would be recorded so that my brother and I could carry out are task that was set several centuries before our birth. But alas, it was not so. We did not then what we do now of the betrayal of History or the pains and prejudice it would cause. We did not know that had History been truthful, our task would not necessary and we could have long ago set down our heads for a well deserved sleep. History has lied, oh so many times, but now perhaps you will have a chance to learn the truth behind the lies and the way things truly were in the time of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. But even that is lie. For you see there Were Four founding family names, but five founding people.

I would know, for I was the fifth.

The younger brother of History's scapegoat, Salazar Slytherin.

I am Letalis Umbra Slytherin.

Perhaps it is irony that my name means mortal shadow. For I am anything but mortal, I have walked this earth by my brothers side longer than any other human since the time of Merlin. Shadowing those that we must stop and those that we must save. Unseen, uncared for, unwanted. And yet, very much needed.

Perhaps you have read _Hogwarts:A History_? If so, allow me to correct further mistakes it carries. For you see, on the day Salazar and I (though I am not mentioned) left Hogwarts, we did not start a massive muggle hunt nor did we develop theories of the inferiority of muggleborns, even if Salazar has always sported a dislike of them. You see, Salazar's wife had just died of some disease bought into the castle by a muggleborn, that is what truly started the term Mudblood, their horrible hygienic routines. Salazar was angry with the other founders for allowing such a disease in, in his emotional state we did not point out it was as much his fault as ours. What happened next was caused by my gift, though I consider it a curse. Both Helga and I were seers, she saw the future and I, the past. The sight I viewed as they argued, showed me the prophecy made my Merlin during his last year of life.

"_Mortal shadow of cunning serpent,_

_fire-tempered brother, founders both._

_On will travel, death forsaken,_

_Years will pass and deaths happen,_

_Till the one of puzzles name_

_And older serpents blood is re-born._

_Bodies shall not age as History grows older._

_The child born_

_Spoken of in future sight,_

_shall need guidance in the darkest hours,_

_When he enters fifth of the Founders castle._

_The two travelers of History shall give,_

_The gift of knowledge and training needed,_

_For the death of a snake's descendant._

_Only then shall their sleep be received,_

_And the faces of their friends viewed again._

History will tell that after the argument, Salazar just disappeared, but as we already determined, History lied. I spoke with my brother and told him of what I'd seen. It is perhaps sad and unfortunate that my brother has an intellect matched by Rowena's and a honor code bound tighter than Godric's. As it was, Salazar agreed with my original interpretation. The two of us must leave and travel through the years, never aging, until we complete the task. How I wish I had said no. But was it was, though History will never say it to you, Salazar kissed his baby soon, Aryen, goodbye and left a note to Godric asking for him to care for the child before we departed, never to see our friends and young relative from anything more than a distance.

Salazar has often said that it was Godric's fault that the Slytherin line is looked down upon as muggle-hating snakes. For you see, though History wrote off Aryen as being taken by Salazar and corrupted into a monster of a Dark Lord, the truth was the Godric had foolishly answered Aryen question of which side his father had been on in the muggle-born argument. And in doing so, created a dark corner of the young boy's mind that believed his father would only be pleased with him if he continued the same hate.

Perhaps now that you have been disillusioned as to the truth of History, you can already understand what happens next. No? In truth it was simple, though heart-breaking. We stayed from sight, studying and growing stronger as we watched Aryen preach pure-blood nonsense that Salazar had never believed in. We watched as History wrote me and all my accomplishments out, instead naming them as the works of Godric. In fairness to the other founders, they tried to stop Aryen and History. But Slytherin blood is not strong for nothing. When Aryen killed Godric in a battle, Godric son and all their descendant began the long lasting feud against out house. Though even Salazar will admit it is a fair hate the Gryffindor family has against ours. We watched it all, knowing we could not step in for fear of upsetting fate. We watched as the world fought and tore itself apart. We watched as a Light wizard would step forward and be adored until he was forgotten just as quickly. We watched that pattern again and again. Never being able to interfere as our friends descendants fought and Hogwarts grew and the wizarding world became more corrupt.

The day Salazar's newest descendant, Tom Riddle, was born, we knew we had found the most powerful of them all. He had pure, raw magic at his fingertips and more cunning than even his ancestor possessed. So you can imagine our anguish at realizing this was the one "of puzzles name". Riddle. But now, there was only time to wait. Wait until his foretold re-birth, though that implied he would die first. We were confused. We aren't anymore. For once History will truthfully tell the story of Lord Voldemorts first defeat and the many years that followed.

And perhaps, just perhaps, this account will allow others to peruse the lies they have been taught, and just perhaps, when the prophecy is completed, History will tell truthfully. If not, what follows is an account that is painstakingly true and heartbreakingly accurate. Read it not if you are happy in your oblivious state, for the times that you will read, will not be quite as happy. Though with Salazar along for the ride, there were a few laughs, every few centuries in fact.

Read on, brave reader, should you feel the need to break free of your delusions.

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**AN:** Me likie! This is the beginning of only the second story I've ever truly written. Should be interesting. I'll be updating this and my other story at similar times, so if there is a lag in update s for a few days, it just means I'm working on a chapter for the other story. But as it is, this should be updated about three-four times a week, working at the same sized chapters that my other one is currently at. About 7-9 pages will be the average length I would assume for any of my stories.

Enjoy!

Sun Phe!


	2. The Begining of the End

**Chapter 2**

**The Beginning of the End**

**Disclaimer**: Most characters belong to the brilliant JK Rowling and the damn team of lawyers that would stop me from stealing them, a few Ocs mentioned, including the main character Letalis Umbra Slytherin, are mine.

**A/N:** Chapter 2 will be about the same length as the first one but after this it should be getting longer. Will be AU after fourth year, but be warned, we will be watching Harry's first four years from the two Slytherin's view, but it will be canon, so I will be skipping over some details and plots from the books. If you're reading this, you've probably read the books!

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Once, when man was newly formed and magic was wild and free, lies did not exist. Death it self was a choice, nothing more. Love was the everyday and fear the nonexistent. But it has been a long time since such days and such thoughts. Now man is evolved and vain and magic is tamed and kept on a tight leash. Very few people step past the boundaries their own minds have limited them too. Even fewer dare consider what lays past those boundaries and the freedom that they would find there, is long forgotten. Now man is slave to its own discoveries, calling death an ultimate ending after which nothing exists. And therefore, though few believe it is possible, all desire to beat their self-proclaimed ultimate ending. To avoid and forget it as if it did not truly exist. And towards the end, they willfight for every breath they take to avoid Death. Though truly death is the name of the boundaries we set for ourselves, beyond we enter the realm of freedom and the impossible. Of happiness and love long forgotten.

What I would give to cross the boundary is immeasurable. What I would do to feel free from the curse I carry with my brother is incomprehensible. So imagine, if you will, the effect of the birth of Tom Riddle on our souls, the temporary happiness we recalled how to feel at the thought of the end of our quest. Should it not be more irony that the two people who have walked this earth longer than any should be the two who desire death more than any. We two appreciate what death would mean. I don't believe many others do. But oh the anguish upon remembering that Tom Riddle's death would be not only our victory, but our greatest struggle.

We watched, my brother and I, as Tom grew up in that orphanage, abused both mentally and physically. We winced at each harsh word that would turn the young innocent boy into a Dark Lord as well as cheered that each harsh word and passed second bought us closer to our goal. We cheered and celebrated, for once allowing ourselves to mingle with other humans, when Tom the newly dubbed Lord Voldemort was defeated by a babe. We marked the child with a lightening bolt scar before any arrived, so that we would always find him and to protect the little green-eyed child from the darkness that the killing curse had pushed inside him. We watched from the shadows as he was taken to his muggle relatives and raised away from his heritage.

We watched when his cousin would pick on him and when his magic manifested itself. We cheered for his young wonder at the magic he didn't even know he had. We helped him, guarding him against the dangers that would have snatched him as he walked home from school. We laughed at his Parseltongue conversation with a boa constrictor from Brazil and the ensuing confusion, even as we protected him from being trampled by his whale of a cousin.

We cheered and jumped for joy when he entered Hogwarts, though I will admit to being disappointed by his sorting into Gryffindor. We helped him at night when he would sneak through the halls, guarding him from the sight of others. Hogwarts loved the boy just as we did. And Hogwarts too helped us heal him after his fight with his Defence teacher and held him through the night until his Headmaster arrived.

And so it was year after year. We guarded and protected our young ward, always ready to step in when necessary. In his fourth year we shielded him from the worst of the dragon's fire and drove back the under lake fiends. We beat off the harsher of the dangers in the maze and protected him from the other contestants. We used our skills to follow our young ward and his fellow champion to a grave yard, but were too late to save the other boy. We watched as Voldemort was reborn, wincing when the boy was cursed, unable to step in quite yet, though we did protect him from the worst of the pain, healing his body from a distance. When he escaped from the grave yard we cared for him silently and swiftly, saving him from any fatal wounds and leaving him in the caring arms of the Headmaster.

But when that summer, our young ward sat still and unmoving on his bed, seemingly consumed with guilt, we stepped from our shadows.

And so began the end of our curse.

As Harry Potter, the one foretold of by another prophecy speaking of his fight with a Dark Lord, entered his 'fifth of the founders castle.' We stepped into the light.

My brother had the best handwriting and thus it was he who drafted this letter:

_To Headmaster Albus Dumbledore,_

_Greetings, Headmaster. I write to you in search of a job. You see, my brother and myself are experts in the fields of Defence Against the Dark Arts, having much experience with said Dark Arts during our many travels. We saw your advertisement in the Daily Prophet and were hoping for a meeting, so that you may assess our qualities._

_We await your owl and your response._

_Sincerely in magic,_

_Salazar and Letalis Umbra_

One should note that we never did lie in our application. We had traveled, we were in need of the job. And we kept our names, tough we used my middle name instead of Slytherin, it is still a valid application.

Three days later we received a response, saying simply that we were to meet the Headmaster at Hogwarts the next day, should we still be interested.

The next day, Hogwarts greeted us by filling us with the joyful emotions the sentient castle felt as our returning. I must say, the feeling of the wards bending to hug you and the magic stirring in response to your own is a feeling like none other. Though the happiness we felt due to the castle, was perhaps offset by the suspicion on the face of the Headmaster, whom we had come to respect from our observance.

Though perhaps the suspicion could have been caused by our appearance. You see my brother and I are tall, both over six foot, though Salazar is slightly taller than my six foot four inches. Salazar has a more angular face, with pale skin and thin lips now, he looks different than the healthy, happy man of his portraits. His eyes however are the same. A brilliant dark blue that can look black. His black hair was always thinner and shorter than mine, but he now keeps it long enough to be pulled back, letting only a few wisps fall to his face. He was dressed in his best. A cloak instead of a robe that was a dark forest green with golden trim, hung loosely over black dress slacks and black loose tunic like shirt that was slightly open at the top, revealing a muscular body. The only true adornment was the golden clasp that held the cloak at his shoulder, it was a golden medallion with the a emerald snake inlayed on it.

Myself? I was not quite as intimidating as my brother. I had a rounder, fuller face with red lips that contrasted well with my fair skin that was not as pale as Salazar. I look much like I did back in my Hogwarts days, not that any portraits are still around to testify to that. My eyes are a dark green that seemed to have streaks of silver in them. My thicker hair is a light brown and hangs easily around my shoulders, though today I have it pulled back, it is tame enough that only a few strands of hair fall in front of my face. I too am dressed in my best. I also wear a cloak instead of robe, though mine is a pale green with silver stitching and ancient runes are designed in a darker green along the bottom. I too wear it loosely, clasped by a simple silver medallion with a single black stone in the center of it. The cloak hangs over black slacks that a curled up above my black combat boots. My shirt is extraordinarily pale green that almost seems white made of silk and also hangs open at the top, revealing my lean body and the top of a scar the runs frommy right shoulder to my left hip. The only adornment I wear is thick chain made of silver circles that rests it pendant, a large green emerald, right below my neck.

My brother is the speaker of the family, and has always had ways with words. I am the silent one who develops the plans and makes the decisions regarding our future. So I do not find it surprising that my brother was the one to great the old Headmaster, "Good morning Headmaster. My thanks for taking the time to meeting with us this fine day."

The Headmaster, nods, his face betraying an obviously unused emotion, confusion.

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**A/n:** Mostly just a discription of them. I really couldn't see them wearing robes, so its cloaks. The ones that hang around shoulders held up by clasps and usually have hoods. Everyone good. If not, think Lord of the Rings cloaks. Those sort of things. Now we're good?

The next chapter will be up to the average length of 6-9 pages, this one was just for more background.

Thanks to the two reviewers:

**Lily's lil Sis**

and

**vampire rouge**

enjoy!


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